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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795032">Salisbury Steak Banquet Meal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumn_and_dunmer/pseuds/dumn_and_dunmer'>dumn_and_dunmer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Secret Crush</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:53:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumn_and_dunmer/pseuds/dumn_and_dunmer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal races to an emotionally distraught Will’s aid and they have a conversation about bath knives and alligators. This is fluff, and Hannibal is maybe a little more sentimental than he lets on. Will is and always will be a bisexual disaster.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Salisbury Steak Banquet Meal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Will had called him at approximately 2am and had hung up after a very shaky and worrying conversation, and Hannibal had not been able to reach him since. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Having been out late, he was still awake and dressed, so it was no big thing to clean up quickly, throw on his coat, and rush out his door. He had called multiple times, having gotten only his voicemail, and Hannibal had left so many messages on his way to Fox Trap that the limit had been reached and it would receive no more recordings.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He had tried to listen to music after that, to distract himself from the sound of his tires flinging slush to either side of the highway, but in the end it had only made him more anxious.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Instead, he settled for biting the inside of his cheek and listening to the sound of his leather driving gloves creak and groan on the steering wheel.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will had said he hadn’t wanted to bother him. He had replied it was no bother. He rarely regretted anything he did but thinking on it now, he had wished he had said something more intimate. That he could never bother him. That he was happy to be bothered. But in fairness to himself he hadn’t known how dire the situation was at the time. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He had heard the mania in Will’s voice but Will had called him like this before, in the night, after waking from a horrid unspeakable dream he could only outline vaguely.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal always wished desperately that Will would confide in him fully and divulge every sickening detail, only omitted out of shame, perhaps. And Hannibal was rarely desperate for anything.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Rarely.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He was confident Will would never take his own life (where would the fun be in that?) and, he was too steadfast a soul. But if he were to hurt himself on accident, in a state such as he was on the phone earlier, Hannibal would never forgive himself. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He sped up slightly as he neared his destination, already weighing the pros and cons of simply letting himself in, or knocking, or even dramatically breaking a window for access. As it turns out, he needn’t have worried about that at all, as two small pinpricks of light flashed at him as his headlights swept Will’s front porch. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Zoe, Hannibal’s favorite of Will’s dogs, cheerfully danced in place at the sight and sound of his Bentley. Behind her, the door stood slightly ajar, framed ominously in the normally illuminated front porch. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal had barely let his vehicle come to a stop before he was almost out of it, having deftly put it in park and stowed away his keys. Not particularly worried anyone would see, he bounded to the steps in a mere few long graceful strides.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Come along, Zoe, it’s freezing,” Hannibal said slightly louder than what was his normal, hoping to politely alert Will that he was there.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Worryingly, none of the other hounds had sounded at his arrival. He scooped up the small white dog and approached the slightly cracked door. He glanced back at the distant tree line for any signs of movement but he hadn’t noticed any fresh tracks leading away from the house. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Zoe shivered slightly as Hannibal gently pushed the door open wider, hoping it didn’t catch or bump up against anything as he did. He swallowed hard as he realized the house was still and silent. No, not completely silent, he realized. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He sat Zoe down gently on the floor and she loped off confidently in the direction of the sound towards the back of the house. He followed her slowly and carefully, realizing more and more the sound he was hearing: running water. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will really wouldn’t hurt himself purposefully. Surely. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Almost feeling underwater himself, he glided past the staircase leading to the second floor (he knew Will disliked the top level, so he ignored it), and closer to the quaint farmhouse style bathroom Will had slowly been remodeling in the rare spare time he had.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal realized he was clenching his fists and tried to relax. His thundering heartbeat was masking any sensory clues he might need and he forced himself to steady a bit. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He realized he was worried he would find Will dead, having slipped maybe, but he could comfort himself at least in the knowledge that he had not bled out somehow, as Hannibal would have smelled blood as he approached the porch, maybe even sooner.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Trying to purge his mind of the image of Will splayed awkwardly and lifeless surrounded by his mourning pets, he took another step forward. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">From inside the bathroom, a long worried whine of a dog.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He had rushed here, propelled by the things Will had said on the phone, the way he had said them. Hannibal was a man of both thought and action, and now action was needed. But now he stood frozen, unable to move. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will didn’t know if he regretted calling Hannibal now, and he barely remembered doing it in a drunken hysteria. Barely remembered what he said. He hardly had the emotional and mental energy to feel silly, as he normally did. A blessing right now. Will rarely drank to excess, and only did this time to hopefully black out and sleep dreamlessly. It had been a bad day on scene. But then poor Jericho had puked on the floor and there was dark fluid in it. It was blood. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He seemed fine, afterwards, even play fought with his brother a bit. But he was old. So old. Will knew it was nearing time. It was past time already. And it hurt very badly. The vet would check him tomorrow, but in the meantime Will let his imagination run a bit wild, a bit dark.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He hoped Hannibal had just shrugged it off as his normal ranting and had gone back to sleep, warm and safe in his bed. He was his psychiatrist, true, but he was also his friend, and surely knew sometimes he just needed to vent.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Although he had never called Jack like that. Nor Alana. He had held Jericho close to him for so long that the old guy had started to become uncomfortable, squirming and whining, and then Will had started crying, knowing how much he would miss him, trying to memorize the feel of his muscles, the smell of his fur. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">And when he couldn’t look at him anymore, so innocent and cheerful, white muzzled and both eyes milky with cataracts, he had called Hannibal and asked why he himself was still alive, what good was it when so many he had loved left him behind. He said he wished he could trade places with them, they deserved life more than he did. Hannibal was silent, letting him go on and on, and Will wondered if he possibly understood a little too well.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He decided to spare Hannibal any more of his torment, put his phone on silent, and had stumbled back to his spare bathroom, soon to be his main bathroom, and had puked up what little he had in his stomach. He had cried for a while more, trying to get it out of his system, because Hannibal had told him that crying released stress toxins or something, he couldn’t remember. His small family had gathered at the halfway closed door, jockeying with each other to peer in worryingly at their crazy father on the floor opposite the toilet. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m sorry, guys,” Will said aloud to them, slurring slightly still. For reasons still not fully clear to him, he had then crawled into the combination shower/tub built into the wall, still in his underwear, and sat for a moment. Perhaps to think. But he doubted it. He decided he might as well finish off his melodrama in style and reached forward to turn on both taps to the tub, letting it run pointlessly down the drain.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He sat like that for a very long time, leaning his head back against the cold tiled wall. Then he had gotten tired of the sound of the water hitting the drain at an odd angle (he really should fix that), so he adjusted the taps slightly. He waited until it had ran satisfyingly to warm, then pulled the stopper that controlled the flow function and jumped slightly as the shower head came to sputtering life and rained heavy torrents down onto him. It was old and slightly clogged of course, so it was a bit chaotic stream-wise.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He had sat like that for a while, hoping to sober up, letting the water beat some sense into him. Then he realized the house felt strange. Like it was breathing. Was he still drunk? Yes, but he had also forgotten to close the door fully while waiting for Zoe to go pee and it was still open. Great. His electric bill was going to be monstrous, what with the extra work from the heater and his sad shower crying. Monstrous.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Monstrous? </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will closed his eyes and listened. He heard Zoe return to the pack that was now crowded on the bathroom floor with her nails clicking on the tile. He felt his skin prickle slightly. Someone was in the house. He realized he didn’t care, really. But then, even in his still surprisingly drunken state, he knew. He didn’t have to worry anymore. He wasn’t even that embarrassed. He always knew he was safe around</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hannibal?” Will’s voice slurred over the sound of the susurrus of water. Hannibal nearly snorted he exhaled so deeply and quickly. He was shocked to realize how tense his body was as it instantly relaxed and he cleared his throat politely. Had he really been that worried? Most unlike him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Will. May I come in?” he called casually in response.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“If you can manage it” came back a morose reply.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal eased the door open gently with his gloved knuckles. Was...was Will decent? He couldn’t know immediately, as the shower curtain was closed and the lights dim. It didn’t matter, really, only that he was of sound body. His mind, he knew, was far from sound. That was why he was here.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You had me quite concerned on the phone earlier,” he said in a leveled tone, trying to make it seem like it was no matter. He was genuinely trying to spare Will of any guilt he might feel if at all possible. Guilt could so easily turn into resentment. Shame, all the more. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sorry. Didn’t mean to...” Will started and trailed off. His mouth sounded a bit mushy, as if he were still crying. Hannibal carefully took off his gloves and coat and draped them on the sink counter. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He paused to appreciate the convenience of having a plausible reason for his DNA to be found here in Will’s house. He had visited often before, of course, both alone and by invitation. But it was always good to keep such things fresh.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Stepping carefully between this dog and that, he ventured deeper into the small steamy quarters that somehow held every single living being in the house. Hannibal usually preferred open layouts, but he felt strangely secure, just now.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Please, have a seat,” came a darkly wry invitation from the vicinity of the bottom of the tub.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal glanced at the toilet and balked slightly. At least Will had abstained from using any of those horrific carpet puke seat coverings, he thought. Reminiscing on certain activities he had partaken in earlier that previous evening, he satisfied himself knowing he would have to have his suit cleaned regardless. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He could do this, at least, for Will. He carefully adjusted his slacks, unbuttoned his jacket, and sat gently on the hastily closed lid and turned to the veil separating them. He admired the impressively beautiful graphic of a single grand tree spreading across the cheap plastic.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Is this a confessional, then?” he asked in as good-natured a way as possible.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Only if you have something you’d like to confess,” Will shot back glumly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal grinned and after a moment, gently reached up and slowly pushed the curtain aside to reveal a characteristically dampened but sufficiently clothed Will.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal somehow felt both relief and disappointment, but showed no sign, he only smiled sadly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will glanced at Hannibal momentarily, eyebrows raised slightly, saw the look on his face and gave a bitter smile in return.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal leaned carefully forward and peered into the tub beside Will to see that there was a simple but elegant hunting knife laying unsheathed and sparkling cruelly in the dim glow of the ancient bulb overhead.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He felt a thin chill race up his back, then, and seeing the look on Hannibal’s face, Will shifted uncomfortably and guiltily.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“That’s not- That’s not what you think,” Will stuttered, trying to think of a way to explain himself in a way that wasn’t humiliating.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">At Hannibal’s admonishing stare, he realized if he could confide in anyone without fear of persecution, it would be the man now poised on his toilet in a three piece suit at 3:30 in the morning.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s-well, don’t laugh, but that’s...my bath knife.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Bath knife.” Hannibal repeated back calmly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t take baths that often, but ever since I was a kid I’ve felt much safer if I have a knife hidden...somewhere,” he shrugged lamely.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I see. Any specific reason?” Hannibal asked, genuinely curious.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">A long pause. Then:</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alligators.” A small smirk.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal only nodded sagely.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You’re confident you could kill one with a knife, then?” He asked in a measured tone that almost made this conversation seem reasonable. Will knew he was trying to lighten the mood a little with a distraction and he appreciated it.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I hope so. Because I certainly can’t have a bath gun, now can I?” He huffed bitterly, trying not to let loose the mad cackle that was now threatening to escape his throat. He couldn’t fully believe this wasn’t all some fever dream brought on by stress.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal was still regarding him soberly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“May I see the knife, Will?” He asked in an airy yet practiced sort of way. Will groaned internally and surrendered the knife to him with a dripping hand. Hannibal studied it, his steady fingers turning it this way and that.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“A fine weapon. Is that a stag’s head on the ricasso?” He weighed it carefully between his fingers and resisted the urge to try some kind of flashy maneuver to impress Will.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes.” And after a pause, “it was a gift.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal realized this was probably from Abigail. And mused darkly that her father had probably made it. Hannibal sat it gently on the sink beside him, under his coat and out of sight.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He turned back in time to see the anguish in Will’s face and knew what he was thinking of.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“You appear to be fully basted in a multitude of different kinds of sadnesses this morning,” Hannibal offered. He watched as Will closed his eyes and swallowed. Small rogue droplets of water were clinging to Will’s eyelashes and gilding the curls of his hair. Hannibal waited.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I think...” Will began, then stopped. He took a deep shuddering breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know it probably seems...kind of...dumb to be this upset, but...”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Whatever it is, Will, I promise I won’t think it’s dumb. I promise you,” Hannibal insisted gently but firmly. Will nodded.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I think Jericho’s dying,” Will blurted out with more finality than he had intended. Suddenly his expression crumpled and he leaned forward and hid his face in his hands as he sobbed. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal reached his hand in immediately, instinctively, and gently cupped the back of Will’s head. He felt the warmth of his skin and the shape of his skull as small curls seemed to coil around his fingers. If Will found this uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. And after a few minutes, after Will had hiccuped the last of his sobs away, he almost leaned back into Hannibal’s hand, unashamedly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal himself was immensely relieved to now understand the root of the problem. He knew many people would laugh about Will’s reason for distress, knew some would even be disgusted. But Hannibal realized what Will’s only family meant to him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Will, I’m so sorry,” he lamented as he slowly and reluctantly withdrew his hand. He resisted the urge to wipe it on something to rid it of water, as Will was now leaning back again, his eyes open, his chin shaking.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“It’s silly, isn’t it? I can tell people want to reach me. To be something like friends. But I always end up shunning them for a bunch of animals who can’t even talk.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Talking is highly overrated,” Hannibal said simply.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Isn’t that one of your favorite things? I mean...” Will stuttered, worried that had sounded offensive. “I mean, that’s kind of your bread and butter, isn’t it? You’re a psychiatrist.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal was smiling slightly, understanding Will’s meaning.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will was sobering up now and certain unwelcome feelings and thoughts were starting to penetrate his multi-sodden haze.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">His face started to betray this as tears welled in his eyes and he attempted to hide it with his forearm. He wanted Hannibal to go but he more desperately wanted him to stay.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I feel stupid. I feel alone,” he said, his voice breaking. He had meant to say the first part. The second part had come unbidden and unwillingly. And it burned as he said it. He knew he had only himself to blame and that sent him crying again. He just wanted to stop, for everything to stop. It seemed overwhelming that everything had to keep going.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal stood up carefully, and Will assumed he was getting ready to leave. He was trying to not lose himself completely and beg him to stay, just a little longer, trying to think of something to keep him here, trying not to seem like a melodramatic idiot, telling himself the damage had already been done.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">He watched helplessly as Hannibal deftly negotiated his way between the dogs; but not towards the door. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“There is an Arabic saying,” he said casually. “A promise is a cloud; fulfillment is rain. I’m your friend Will. You will never have to endure the storm alone. I promise I’ll always be here with you. If you will allow me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal pushed the curtain aside at the front of the tub, causing the metal curtain rings to rattle.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">If he had been any more drunk, Will would have readily accepted this as sheer hallucination. Hannibal confidently and gracefully stepped into the tub, momentarily blocking the deluge from reaching him.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will could hear the water pelting the shoulder and back of Hannibal’s fine dark suit, his glossy shoes, probably costing more than Will’s car, patted softly in the thin stream sliding towards the drain.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal didn’t even flinch, he only politely closed his side of the shower curtain back, to shield the bathroom and dogs from splatter.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Then he slowly sat down and situated himself comfortably against the corner to avoid the small tap. Almost panicking, Will could do nothing but try to move to make as much room for Hannibal as he could.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will stared. Hannibal’s normally immaculate hair was now flattened handsomely against his forehead, and water rivulets from his chin were darkening his silk tie.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hannibal...you’re.....you’re in my shower...in your clothes.” He felt as insane as he sounded.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Hannibal merely shrugged. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“So are you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will looked down at his boxers and undershirt and gestured weakly.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I’m...in despair,” he said, trying to sound reasonable and failing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Then so am I,” Hannibal said simply.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Will let out a small incredulous laugh and they smiled at each other.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">They sat for a while longer like that, gazing at each other long after the smiles had faded.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was mostly for exercise and practice leading to a bigger project. Written in 4 hours and I don’t have an editor, so apologies lol. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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